prayer cards, look how pretty.

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the ache.

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This post isn't about one child. It isn't even really about me. It's about people all over the world, joined together by a pain, by a longing, an aching. People who have loved children unconditionally, children who were not theirs. Children who were not theirs, but who felt like theirs. Who they chose to love like they were theirs, who they chose to love like this wasn't a short term thing. Even though they were warned over and over not to do it. You see, though we come from different countries, though we speak different languages - we ache the same. We ache for children who are no longer ours. Maybe we're still in their lives, maybe we're not. Maybe we're happy with the life they have now, maybe we're not. Each of our situations are different, but they hurt the same. But here's the interesting thing, it's an ache we wouldn't give up. An ache we wouldn't give away. Because what that child got in return, well that's w
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Psalm 139

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In the last week and a bit CDA has taken in two newborns, both abandoned at a couple of hours old. I wrote this almost exactly a year ago about another little boy (whose life has changed completely, in the most wonderful way, a story for another day...) but it rings true for these two as well. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the past Psalm 139, in my opinion, was a Psalm reserved for reading at dedications and putting in "it's a [insert gender]" cards when babies were born. I have since seen the error of my ways (different story for a different day) but it still has me thinking, what if no cards arrive? What if there is no celebration? What if it isn't the happy occasion we're envisioning? The first night I did night duty with sickbaby I read Psalm 139 over him for exactly the reasons I first set out - it's a good Psalm for babies. They were literally just
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